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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29422935">loving you with a side of peppermint</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueesnowflakes/pseuds/blueesnowflakes'>blueesnowflakes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Again, Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Boys in Skirts, Established Relationship, Everyone Is Gay, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied Relationships, Kissing, M/M, Picnics, The Author Regrets Nothing, Valentine's Day, mf is lonely, wrote this instead of homework</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:48:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,099</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29422935</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueesnowflakes/pseuds/blueesnowflakes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>it starts with sapnap third wheeling then he meets karl and before you know it, he's addicted. </p><p> </p><p>     Then after a little bit another worker walked out from behind the counter, a small, cheerful boy. The youngest hadn’t bothered looking up hearing the footsteps approach but swerve to the table next to them until he felt the slight jab of George’s elbow to his hip, grumbling out a small ‘what’ he looked up to the other. </p><p>“Dude, he’s so your type!” </p><p>Sapnap didn’t have time to register who George was talking about before the boy was right next to him and goddamn was George right.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Karl Jacobs/Sapnap</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>184</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>MCYT</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>loving you with a side of peppermint</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>kinda speedran this one :) </p><p>was supposed to be fluffy valentines special.... very sorry.....</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’ll be fun, they said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’ll be great, they said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’ll just be three old friends hanging out, they said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However they failed to remember the fact that two of them were dating. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course that wouldn’t normally be a problem but these two were extremely clingy; it would be a surprise to find one without the other being nearby. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sapnap knew what he was getting himself into, he knew what would happen if he agreed but now he was here, wondering why the hell he did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“George!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The small brunette laid his head against his boyfriends lap as he kicked his feet off the edge of the ivory coloured couch. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe that's what love looks like. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We have to go in 5 minutes.” The boy whined as he spoke, leaning his face over George’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dream threw his head back, softly hitting the back of the couch as he did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am </span>
  </em>
  <span>the third wheel,” The youngest mumbled as he rose from the other side of the couch, slowly walking over to the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on Sap, you’re not the third wheel, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I swear,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dream always said that though, he always said it was just friends hanging out. He always said it wasn’t him and George on a date. He always said Sapnap wasn’t there just because he was still single. “You come with us because we want to hang out with you-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“On Valentine’s day?” The ravenette shot back gaining a glare in return. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sped out of the house as George quickly followed, his arms out wide, asking for a hug. Dream just stayed on the couch, shaking his head as he leant towards the small cat on the floor who was scratching his leg, begging for attention. </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just admit it. I’m third wheeling,” Sapnap gestured towards their intertwined hands which lay on the dashboard of the car as they drove. George was the one to break away, curling in on himself as Dream chased after his hand while trying to keep his eyes on the road. “Just turn on the radio or something please, it’s so boring back here just watching George beg you to fuck him with his eyes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s not-” Dream spluttered before he looked over to the brunette who was completely flushed red all the way up his neck. “Ok fine- fine. You’re third wheeling.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The diner was small and quaint, tucked away in a corner of a not so busy street, the faint sound of cars whizzing by in the distance; it all seemed so perfect. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Perfect just like everything else around him, everything else apart from his love life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was desolate and bland, nobody wanted him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But maybe someday he would find a cute boy in which he could grow old with, stare lovingly at for hours, kiss until they couldn’t breathe- until their lips were so swollen and red they hurt to touch and they would get married in a church that was tucked away behind a forest and then they’d live in a little cottage short of the seaside. It would be painted a smooth creamy colour on the outside but the inside would be a variation of colours ranging from red to orange to blue, there would be two bedrooms- one for him and his partner and another for guests. Maybe Dream and George could come visit once in a while and they’d wake up to the delicious smell of bacon and eggs and be met with the sight of Sapnap dancing around the kitchen, cooking while his partner slept peacefully in their bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe one day he could have that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The worker was nice, tucking them into a small corner booth before handing them some menus and walking back to her spot behind the counter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then after a little bit another worker walked out from behind the counter, a small, cheerful boy. The youngest hadn’t bothered looking up hearing the footsteps approach but swerve to the table next to them until he felt the slight jab of George’s elbow to his hip, grumbling out a small ‘what’ he looked up to the other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dude, he’s so your type!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sapnap didn’t have time to register who George was talking about before the boy was right next to him and goddamn was George right. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His brown- caramel hair was swept to the side, light freckles adorned his face contrasting perfectly with his slightly colourless gray eyes. He had a retro coloured jacket over the top of a white strapless crop top and a black pleated skirt that hugged his waist perfectly and flowed smoothly over his slight tanned thighs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was perfect. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was everything that Sapnap wanted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi, my name’s Karl! I’m here to take your order.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh and his voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sapnap melted at the sound of his voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was smooth yet had a slight gravelly tone to it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It fit him so well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This is who I want to love for the rest of my life. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Karl!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned to the boy in the doorway as he licked the cookie dough off his fingers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s up Sap?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The cookies are meant to go in the oven, not in your mouth- not yet at least. Just wait until the picnic, yeah?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But Dream-” Karl whined as he looked at the remaining cookie dough left in the bowl. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dream said you could?” The boy nodded as he shamefully looked away from his bestfriend. “The man lies- come on, how have you not learnt this yet? You’ve known him for a year today.” </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older glanced back up, seemingly in thought about something as his gaze was empty and soft. “Oh. Right. It’s Valentine’s day isn’t it? That’s mental- it’s been a whole year since we met. Do you remember our first conversation?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sapnap scoffed at the memory. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course he remembered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was the best day of his life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The day he met his bestfriend. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His crush- his soulmate?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ll- um, I’ll just have a chocolate mi- milkshake. Tha- thanks.” Sapnap felt his whole face heat up as he stuttered over his words. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Great and do you guys want anything?” The brunette gestured towards the couple sat across from the stuttering boy who were trying their hardest not to burst out laughing. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shaking their heads no, Karl turned back around, skirt swaying slightly as he walked away. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, when I first saw you I thought you were pretty cute.” Karl laughed at the memory. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Joyous. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s what his laugh sounded like. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It sounded like the gentle rocks of the ocean waves late at night after the sun had set and the stars painted the night sky in a dotted milky white pattern. The sand resting softly between your toes, cold and untouched. The moonlight reflecting across the shore, blue crashing into it, breaking the daze of the everlasting light. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It sounded like when you’d sneak downstairs at midnight, expertly avoiding each creak on the steps. The excitement that ran through your bones when you felt the cold hardwood floor meet your feet, knowing you succeeded in your mission and opening the fridge- the harsh, bright light screaming at you to shut it, to close it and you want to regret touching the handle in the first place but you just can’t bring yourself to. You can’t bring yourself to because before you know it, you’re struggling for air, trying to suppress your laughs as a chip packet, nearing its end, lays in your lap. Food it once held, roughly swallowed as you scrolled through your phone, checking social media and friends that had hurriedly messaged you in the middle of the day, making sure you were okay. Crumbs found a place to settle across your blanket and when you realised that you’d have to clean it up rather soon as to avoid ants gathering. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Joyous. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I still do.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His kisses were perfect. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their lips moved in sync, not missing a beat, like they’d had years of experience. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His lips tasted like peppermints. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peppermints.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was all he could think about. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The smooth, glossy, minty taste. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You have an addiction to peppermints or something?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Karl paused his movements for a second, fingers caressing the sides of the crinkly plastic. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Is it that easy to tell?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You always have one, no matter where you are.” Sapnap lifted himself off the couch, tossing a bag behind him before retreating back to his room. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The bag lay limp in his arms. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Peppermints. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He loved it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was perfect. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was his. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It would always be his if Karl would let him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We ran out.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here, one second,” The younger waltzed into the kitchen, opening a drawer before pulling out a small red and white lolly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peppermint. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gimme, gimme, gimme!” Karl hopped to his feet, running to his boyfriend’s open arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said,” Sapnap took a pause to pop the lolly into his own mouth before facing the other boy with eyes full of love and adoration. “One second my dear.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Scooping the pink flushed cheeks in his hands, he kissed him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The peppermint lay awaiting on his tongue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took a second, Karl opening his mouth slightly allowing for the lolly to slip through. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peppermints. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulled away, “Thank you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The other spoke softly in return, “You’re welcome my dear.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was a problem. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he couldn’t help it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t help it when he knew it felt like he would fall in love all over again if he did it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It felt like he was falling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felt like he was falling from nothing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felt like he was falling from everything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And maybe he was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or maybe he was falling for him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he was okay with that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was okay with that because he never did quite fall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was on the edge. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was like glass, so fragile that even one light tap could push him over the edge- could make him fall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then he would be falling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And it wouldn’t just be that feeling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It would be real.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wouldn’t just be on the tip of his tongue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The peppermint would fall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The feeling would disappear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And it would be real. </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He fell. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>And he wouldn’t stop falling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bag was empty. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No more peppermints. </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had been years. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t tasted a peppermint in years. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had forgotten what they tasted like. </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometimes he would visit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The drive was long and cumbersome but it was worth it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was worth it for the love of his life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was worth it for Karl. </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometimes he would walk for hours. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He would walk past the stones. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He would walk past every single one until he got to his. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To Karl’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was lonely without him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had a peppermint to cope- to try and cope. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn’t help. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It tasted different. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn’t taste like the smooth mint it used to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn’t taste like warmth and like love and like Karl. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It tasted weird and foreign. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It tasted of cool autumn morning coffee but one that had been left out to starve- to turn cold and lifeless. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It tasted of Christmas Eve night, when you bit your tongue out of excitement, the metallic taste all that filled your mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It tasted of going underwater at the beach and trying to breathe, salty ocean water filling your lungs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn’t taste like him and it never would again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He loved him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He always would. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe he would a little too much but that’s what love’s all about isn’t it?</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Love was waking up in the embrace of your lover. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Love was kissing until you couldn’t breathe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Love was whatever Dream and George had. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Love was not what Sapnap imagined it to be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Love was not a wedding in a church, tucked away behind a forest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Love was not living in a cottage near the seaside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Love was not waking up to bacon and eggs while listening to the waves gently crash against the shore- against the rocks.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But was love what Sapnap had? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was love pining after a lover that wasn’t there anymore?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was love buying bag after bag of peppermints to try and remind yourself of them?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was love never being able to eat a single one because it hurt- it hurt so bad you cried until you couldn’t breathe? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was love visiting them everyday? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was love visiting them everyday even though they didn't know?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was love visiting them everyday but never being able to hold them when you did? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Was love visiting their grave every single day?</span>
</p>
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